


Dares, Pranks and Curses

by TundrainAfrica



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen, Miguel has a little crush, Miguel has a little curse, Ouija, Puppy Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TundrainAfrica/pseuds/TundrainAfrica
Summary: Written for the Coco Valentines Fanwork Exchange.The night of Dia de Los Muertos, Miguel ends up staying out late to play a little game with his friends in the cemetery. Hector, Imelda and Miguel reunite through a game of Ouija.





	Dares, Pranks and Curses

**Author's Note:**

> For the people who are waiting for the next chapter of my other story, somewhere between life and death. Sorry, I was super busy with school while trying to get this done for the valentines fanwork exchange. Since I'm done with this, I should be able to focus on my other story. I'll get back to replying to the comments soon and I'll also get back to writing the next chapter as well. 
> 
> Anyway, This one is for Lusilviera. Her prompt was 1. Cute Héctor/Miguel bonding moment 2. Big fight between said characters.
> 
> The problem for me was I couldn't think of any way Miguel could reunite with them without bending the rules of already accepted metaphysics or making my own. Thus, I thought of making this type of scene. There's a little fight but no big one sadly but I hope this counts as a cute bonding moment.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy!

Dia de Los Muertos is a day for family. Or at least, that's what it has been since before Miguel could even remember.

They scattered marigold petals, waited for the dead to come while eating pan de los muertos and reminiscing with family. Save for that one day back when he was twelve, the tradition was the same every year. After that year he had come back with a new resolve to appreciate his family a bit more. He didn't expect at all back then that three years later, he would find himself intending to be more than a little tardy to his family festivities.

Family is everything. His family and experiences had done a good job instilling that concept into his young mind. Responsibilities and peer pressure though can teach otherwise.

Fifteen year old Miguel Rivera was supposed to be home to help with the preparation for the Dia de Los Muertos celebration. Instead he found himself at school, calling home to tell them he would be arriving a little late since they were still working on a group work for history class that would be due after the long weekend celebrations. His family understood. At his age, it was only normal that school came first.

It wasn't all disappointments though. Miguel felt almost excited to be stuck in school with his group mates since one of them was Anna, a girl a few centimeters shorter than him, who kept her hair in braids similar to how his great grandmother Coco used to wear hers. She wasn't the prettiest in class for sure. For some reason though, Miguel found himself sneaking glances at her as they talked about their plans for the presentation on Monday. Maybe it was the way she easily focused on tasks so quickly and effectively or maybe it was the way she furrowed her brow when she was deep in thought. Miguel watched as she conscientiously finished the PowerPoint for Monday on the day of the dead beliefs and beliefs of the afterlife. He and his other two group mates were all busy reading up on their own parts for the presentation.

“Do you think this land of the dead talk is actually real? Or do you guys just go along with it because your parents do?” It was a sensitive topic in any other situation but with four stressed group mates doing a research on this superstition, it was a question born out of frustration.

It was Jose who brought it up as he furiously typed out his research. He was one of the more responsible people in class but at the same time he was way too outspoken. Miguel was surprisingly not as surprised as he thought he would be when he asked that.

“Well, my grandmother would kill me if I decided not to go along with it. She was furious that I had to stay behind for school. Saying something about how we should've started earlier.” Carlos their other groupmate answered

The whole questioning about the existence of the land of the dead made Miguel uncomfortable especially after what happened to him back when he was eleven. He knew he couldn't bring it up, people would think he was crazy. Through the years, he had learned to temper down that memory that it started to feel like almost a dream instead of a memory. All he could do was shrug when Jose looked at him expectantly, trying to look more focused on his part than he actually was.

“I dunno. What if it is real… I mean it's become culture and a belief for a long time for a reason right?”

That was Anna's voice. Miguel found himself looked up at her. At that moment, he started to understand why he enjoyed being around her. She was more open, she was less outspoken, preferring to listen and think before forming an opinion. What she said almost made him think that maybe he wasn't crazy for remembering such a vivid dream from when he was eleven and believing that it was real.

“Why don't we check?”

The three looked to Carlos who just closed his laptop. He was fiddling with his bag and pulled out a small rolled up mat. He spread it out on the table and nobody had to ask to know what it was. They had seen it too many times in horror movies. It was an Ouija board. The big question was why he even brought it to school.

“It’s almost Dia de Los Muertos so my friends and I played a bit in the bathroom during lunch.” He answered as if he knew from their faces what exactly they were gonna ask.

Jose’s mouth widened into a grin. “That's actually a great idea. More material for our research.”

No one knew if Jose was serious or not but for some reason, everyone agreed to stop by the cemetery before going home. Miguel would have wanted to be home sooner but he found himself almost compelled by the opportunity to once again get a glimpse of the land of the dead. That very vivid dream when he was eleven couldn't have been just that right?

With the preparations for Dia de Los Muertos celebrations, it was difficult to find a place to try out the Ouija board. Miguel felt a sense of dejavu as his eyes instinctively focused on the rusty mausoleum in the middle. If there was one thing that assured him that his visit to the land of the dead wasn't a dream was the recent revelation that Ernesto killed his great grandfather Hector which became apparent through the documents and letters his great grandmother brought out before her death, the morning after Miguel's crazed dream.

The security in the mausoleum was non existent and the lack of maintenance was already apparent in the dusty floors and the wilted flowers on Ernesto de la Cruz’s mausoleum.   
  
“Is this safe?” Anna asked as she trailed behind the three boys.  
  
Carlos shrugged as he brushed some dust off of one spot and spread out the Ouija board there. “Nothing happened in the bathroom or at least when we did it. And besides, do I look dead or possessed to you?”  
  
“What about we call a nice spirit?” Miguel suggested as he looked to Anna who was holding her arms around herself, hoping that would at least help calm her down. “Like our great great grandparents or something?”  
  
Jose raised one eyebrow at Miguel. “Now that you mention it, it was your great great grandfather who wrote Remember Me and Ernesto de la Cruz’s other songs right?”

Everyone who knew about Ernesto de la Cruz knew about the scandal involving the stolen songs that was brought into the light through the letters Hector's daughter Coco kept. It happened around three years ago. His great grandmother Coco brought out the letters that all lead to the writing of the song Remember Me, dated more than eighty years ago in Hector Rivera’s own writing. For a week or so, Miguel’s family were celebrities. Like all trending topics though, that fame only had a brief life span. The small museum they set up in their house had stayed and was visited every now and then as a tourist spot in Santa Cecilia but eventually, the knowledge that the writer of Remember Me was an ancestor of the Rivera shoemaking family became almost ubiquitous, ubiquitous enough for everyone to just give a passing nod to this reminder instead of a look of surprise and wonder. All Miguel could do was give that same nod.

“Then we should call your grandfather! Let’s ask him why he made his other songs or something like that!”

“What?”   
  
Jose furrowed his brow. “We’ll call your great great grandfather.” He said more clearly and slowly as if Miguel did not understand what he had said.

Miguel understood exactly what Jose wanted but instead, was too shaken and taken aback by the ludicrosity of actually calling his great great grandfather. He was somewhat sure that they could manage to call Hector and calling his Papa Hector would be a hundred times safer than calling any other random spirit or demon but the idea of talking to his great great grandfather through some board, and how would Hector react to being cold into some childish game? The biggest question he wanted to ask though was whether this ouija board actually worked. Will he be able to find out if his visit to the Land of the Dead was just some fevered dream? Or was it a real thing?

Before he could even manage to articulate all the thoughts and worries that were running through his brain into something that could even be considered remotely acceptable, his three companions were already setting up the board on the mausoleum floor.

“So how do we call a specific spirit?” Jose asked.

“We chant their name again and again while thinking about them.” Carlos answered. He looked to Miguel and moved a bit to the side to make space for him. “You’re his great great grandson, you do the honors.”

Miguel put his hands on the triangle they had placed in the middle of the board. “What do I do?”

“We chant their name, then we ask if they’re there. After we can ask them anything! Let’s ask why he made the song un poco loco or something!” Carlos suggested as he looked expectantly to Miguel. The latter glanced briefly at Anna who was starting to look more interested than scared. Is she also a fan of Papa Hector’s works? With that, Miguel gripped the triangle with new resolve.

“Hector Rivera. Hector Rivera. Hector Rivera. Hector Rivera.” The soft whispers filled the room. The four had made the conscious effort to keep their voices at the bare minimum. The Dia De Los Muertos celebration would be starting soon and anybody could be doing some last minute preparations nearby .

Miguel felt a cold chill and as he looked up at his companions, he saw the same surprise he felt in their faces. The cold chill was real.

“Papa Hector? Are you here?” Miguel asked. It could have been anyone or it could have been their combined efforts but within seconds the triangle on the Ouija word slid to the word yes.

“Guys! Stop moving it like that…” Anna said nervously. “It’s not funny…”

“I’m not moving it.” Miguel said and to his horror, the other two boys followed in unison a second later.

“Is this actually real… It can’t be… This must be a prank. Miguel?”

Miguel shook his head.

Carlos looked at him suspiciously before he took a deep breath “Alright there's no turning back. Let’s ask some random question?”

"Why did you write Un Poco Loco?” Jose asked

Miguel wondered for a second whether he should move the triangle instead. He already knew the answer to that question anyway. Back when he was in the Land of the dead, he had remembered Hector mentioning that he made it for Imelda. Hector looked back down at the triangle and watched it shift from M to I to G.

As the letters shifted from U to E to L, Miguel could only freeze in shock. He was not the one moving it. He wrote it for me? It was a stupid first thought but Miguel soon realized the stupidity of his first thought and decided to focus on more pressing matters like the triangle moving on its own and whoever was holding it, spelling out his name.

“Miguel?” Anna muttered nervously.

“C, O, M, E. Come!” Carlos said.

“Come what? Come where?” Jose pressed.

Miguel could only stare as the triangle slid to H then O then M then E.

“Home meaning home home? Or home meaning the land of the dead? Did we call the wrong guy?” Jose suggested lightly but the four teenagers were actually thinking the same thing. The ghost could be coming out to get Miguel. Home could have meant the land of the dead. Miguel could be cursed.   
  
“We should finish this now.” Anna said. “Who knows what else can happen.

“With…. US… Come home with US!” Miguel’s hair stood on end. Okay, relax this could be Hector. Or it might be someone impersonating Papa Hector… A demon or... “

“Let's stop this. Miguel is turning pale.”

“He could be cursed… Of course he’s turning pale…”   
  
“I should ask my abuela. I’m sure there’s an exorcist in Santa Cecilia right?”  
  
“But he’s not possessed. He’s cursed! There’s a difference?”

“ So what do you suggest we do, we can’t tell his parents. They’’ll tell ours and we’re all dead.”

“So do you suggest we let Miguel stay cursed?

“Hey, Hey, you okay?”

Miguel looked up at his three companions who had all turned their attention to him. He only realized then that he had spaced out for a good minute and being forced back into the real world only made him a little aware of the nausea that was running through him. “I don’t feel so good.” He managed to say. “Let’s go home.”

With that the four friends packed up the Ouija board and left the mausoleum

“It’s a long weekend… We have a lot of time to do some independent research on this… No need to tell our parents yet… No need to panic…”

Miguel silently listened to Jose as the latter rambled on about their plan that weekend. His head was swimming and he could only manage to pick up parts of what Jose was saying and some words Carlos would say as well to affirm Jose. To his side was Anna who was holding his arm, as if to keep him balanced.

He took the trod to the house one step at a time, his bedroom and the bed, the carrot at the end of the stick. Why was he feeling sick so suddenly? Was he actually the cursed? Was the person they were talking to actually Papa Hector?

“Miguel! You’re home!”

“He wasn’t feeling good Mrs. Rivera.”

“Oh, mijo… You kids shouldn’t be overworking yourselves so close to vacation. Were you able to get everything done at least?”

“Yes, we were!”

“We actually got more done actually--- OW!”

Miguel had closed his eyes and buried his head into his mother’s shoulder, only becoming a little self conscious a second later when he heard Anna’s voice. Of course, Anna was still there.

“Happy Dia de Los Muertos Mrs. Rivera! Miguel too.”

Anna had seen him like this and his mother guided him back to the bedroom and back to bed, Miguel couldn’t help but ruminate on that. Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing? Did she feel guilty enough to not talk to him about it ever again? Or guilty enough to be much nicer to him when she saw him again? She was soft spoken, kept to herself a lot and Miguel found this unpredictability to be almost torture.

“Your abuelita will understand, just take a nap first. If you’re feeling better later, you can join us in the ofrenda room.”

He mother helped him on the bed and turned off the lights and Miguel was once again left alone

**Dares and Deaths**

Miguel opened his eyes to the familiar sound of guitar strumming. Most times, it could put anyone to sleep but hearing the first few tabs of Juanita when he wasn’t the one playing made him think. He knew he was the only one in the family who could manage the complicated tabs so who could have been playing it to him.

Miguel sat up and saw the familiar face from three years ago sitting on the rocking chair by his bed, playing with the spirit form of his guitar.

“Papa Hector?” Miguel managed to say. He had just woken up but that wasn’t the main reason it took him a little more effort to get those two words out of his mouth.Miguel had pinched himself, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. If what he was seeing then and there was no dream, that meant that the dream he had had three years ago was not a dream. He had really met Papa Hector and Mama Imelda. As if brain was also starting to register the importance of those memories from three years ago, they all started coming back to Miguel in big chunks. The alebrije… Frida… The party with Ernesto… The Cenote...

Hector looked up at Miguel. “You’re awake? And you can see me?” Hector’s face was pure surprise for a few seconds before it softened into a warm smile, the warm smile that usually meant tears of joy soon afterwards.

Miguel soon found himself returning that smile.“It’s been a while…”

“It hasn’t been a while Miguel. We were here every year during Dia de Los Muertos, even during Christmas.”

“I haven’t seen you and everyone else for so long though. It was as if... I’ve almost forgotten.”

“You’ve almost forgotten.” Hector had said the exact same line at the exact same time as Miguel and the latter could not help but feel a heaviness in his heart as Hector’s face darkened, the more heartbreaking part was that wasn’t a face of anger or sadness at Miguel having forgotten what happened that night three years ago. It was pure acceptance. Miguel had almost expected Hector to brighten up again and say “Hey it happens!” just like that time three years ago when they had watched Chicharrons’s final death. A memory that was starting to become more and more vivid along with everything else the more he talked to Hector. “Of course, it hurt.” Hector paused for a second as if trying to find the right words to say. “But, believe me, a living kid in the land of the dead doesn’t happen everyday. I wouldn’t have believed the same thing happened to me if I were alive. And when you went back, of course you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone right?”

“For a while, I thought I was crazy. People would think I’m crazy if they ever found out… So I had to tell myself it was just a dream… I thought it was just a dream.” His mind was starting to make sense of the familiar face in front of him and as it did, the circumstances surrounding this reunion was also starting to become a little more apparent.

“Wait am I dead? Why can I see you?”

“Dead? Maybe you could say cursed?”

Miguel looked instinctively towards the source of that voice. He looked to the door to see Imelda leaning on the wall.

“Cursed?”

“You should not have played with that Ouija board back in the cemetery.”

“Mama Imelda… You were there?” Miguel laughed nervously.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Well, you called my husband, of course I’ll be there.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes accusingly towards Hector. “So it was you…” At that moment, all Miguel could feel was relief. He wasn’t cursed by some demon but if what Imelda said was correct, he could still be cursed. “But then, what did you mean by ‘come home with us?’” He pressed as he thought back to the context of that whole curse.

“We were on our way to the family house for celebrations so I just thought of sending you a little message.”

Miguel would have face palmed then and there.

“Hey, mijo, understand where I’m coming from. I haven’t talked to you in so long. Of course I would have been a little excited to finally be able to say something to you.”

“You could have answered the question. Or you could have even sent a simple greeting. You could have given me and my friends a heart attack with that stupid message!” Miguel said.

“Well you already knew the answer to the first question already, so I found it pretty useless to waste my efforts on that.”

“An Ouija board is not a very convenient form of communication.” Imelda added before shaking her head at that comment. “It’s not a very safe way either, Miguel. You could have been cursed. You probably are right now, if you can see us.”

“Do I need your blessing again?” Miguel asked.

Imelda shrugged. “It depends, do you think this ‘curse’ is actually a curse? Or do you think it’s a blessing?” She helped Miguel up from the bed and brought him out to the yard. From the entrance to the house, had a good view of the festivities. The buffet was set up, the adults were talking in one larger table while Manny, Benny and Coco were playing with their alebrije toys. His older cousins Rosa and Abel on the other hand were fumbling with their instruments to one side. Those scenes happened every year except for one major difference. This year, there were more people than usual and these extra people were glowing.

“Mama Coco… Papa Julio… Tia Victoria… Tia Rosita… Tio Felipe… Tio Oscar…” Miguel muttered to himself as he counted the extra visitors.

“Naturally, I would be angry over that shenanigans with the Ouija board but I can’t be angry about this can I?” Mama Imelda said.

Miguel smiled at his Mama Imelda and his Papa Hector. “If this happens every year, I don’t think I’ll be forgetting you anymore.”

“But, do NOT do that anymore. You understand? If Hector and I were not there, you could have accidentally called anyone… I mean ANYONE. A demon, the devil, oh god, even Ernesto.”

“Imelda, I’m pretty sure, he learned his lesson.” Hector said nonchalantly as he put his hand on Miguel’s shoulder and led him towards the crowd of people “ It’s a time for celebration, no time for scolding. Besides, I think we have some catching up to do. Tell me about that girl who was with you in the cemetery? What’s her name? Anna?

**Dares and Deaths**

It was lunchtime in school when the four group mates were able to talk once again. Their presentation was next period but that was the last thing they were thinking about then.

“None of you told your parents what we did in the cemetery right?” Jose asked as he fiddled with the straw of his drink.

“Not a single word…” Carlos said.

“Miguel... Did you get sicker this weekend? Or did you feel strange at all?” Jose pressed.

“Not at all…” Miguel said as he put his hands up in defense. “I actually did some research. The worst people would usually get with a minor ghost haunting is a little sick. I also consulted a paranormal expert on this… ”

“You did all of that this weekend without telling your parents?” Jose raised one eyebrow in suspicion.

“I have my ways.” Miguel smiled.  _Papa Hector and Mama Imelda count as a paranormal experts right?_ He smiled inwardly at his own joke. “Let’s just promise to put this behind us. No one has to know what we did in the cemetery. Besides, my parents would kill me too if they find out what we did.”

“If you say so. But if you’re not feeling too good, you still have to tell us. I’m still not a hundred percent convinced you’re okay.” Jose said. Miguel nodded in return and that was the last thing anyone said about what happened in cemetery during the lunch break. Soon after, the conversation had shifted to the presentation they were going to have that day.

It was Anna who had broken that promise soon. The students were all packing up to go home when Anna stopped by Miguel’s table. “Hey, are you really okay? I was just kinda worried. You looked really pale back then.”

Miguel could see the genuine worry in her eyes. He was tempted to tell her exactly what happened. _I got sick back then. Turns out I really was cursed but now I can see ghosts. The question was… Would she believe him? Would she think it was a joke? Would she feel insulted that he actually told her something so out of this world?_ “I really wasn’t feeling well from the start but I didn’t want to destroy their fun.” Miguel explained. “So, I kinda manipulated the results. They interpreted it wrong. I wanted to tell you guys but I really wasn’t feeling well the whole weekend.”

It was a trade off. Anna would either think he was crazy nice guy or a sane douchebag. He had chosen the latter.

Surprisingly, Anna had laughed.

“You’re not mad?

Anna shook her head. “Honestly, the important thing for me is, you aren’t actually cursed. Besides, those boys should be taught a lesson for even suggesting we do that.”

“Well,we went along with it, we kinda have some fault in this too.”

“The important thing is, the we put up a great and very convincing presentation, we got a hundred percent and you’re not cursed. So what do you say we go and have our own mini celebration?”

Miguel was quick to accept the invitation.

As they walked out of the school side by side, Miguel couldn’t help but think that maybe sooner or later, he could tell her the truth

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!


End file.
